


A Vampire Walks Into a Bar

by Tiofrean



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: A Bit of Fluff, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Developing Relationship, Human!Daryl, Humor, M/M, Rick Grimes Has Zero Game, Rick Is Hopeless Someone Help Him, Rick is Cute, Soon To Be Idiots In Love, Vampire Mating Rituals, Vampire!Rick, a touch of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 13:32:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15864624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiofrean/pseuds/Tiofrean
Summary: One day, Rick's four hundred years long life changes when he spots a handsome stranger in a bar. On the spot, Rick decides that he has to find his way into this man's heart.If he only had a map...





	A Vampire Walks Into a Bar

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my 50th work for TWD fandom, so I would like to thank you all for reading my fics <3 A huge thanks for MermaidSheenaz, my wonderful Beta, who managed to stay with me through all of them, too! <3 <3 <3 
> 
> Enjoy some dorky, vampire Rick 'Zero Game' Grimes, who will do everything to get to Daryl's heart :)

Rick was mesmerized.

In all his life he had never met anyone like this, and it was saying something when you were a four-centuries-old vampire. Sure there had been people he liked, people he admired, even people he _loved._ Like Lori, his late wife, the only human woman he had fallen for. Or Shane, his friend - more like a brother really - a vampire he had met so long ago it had been literary another lifetime. But during all those years, in the whole changing and evolving world, Rick had never seen a guy as fascinating as the rough-voiced redneck sitting in the pub on this Friday night.

Rick had just finished his latest shift and was nursing his second whiskey - about the only human drink he really still enjoyed besides coffee - sitting in a downtown bar and willing the time to move a bit quicker. He needed another kind of drink... It had been two days since his last _real meal_ , and he was getting restless.

Hidden in the shadows, at his usual table in the far corner, Rick had a very nice view of the rest of the establishment. Being a cop helped, too - most of the people here knew him primarily for arresting them after late-night-turned-early-morning drunken brawls, so they kept their distance, leaving him alone. Rick reckoned it was the price for being a cop and working mostly night shifts. He liked his job - it gave him a perfect opportunity to find alcoholics and junkies that he could feed on under the cover of the night. But sometimes it got exhausting, especially when he went for too long without a proper meal. It wasn’t that he had to drink blood everyday to stay alive - that was guaranteed by his genetic makeup. It was just that going hungry for too long left him weak and nauseous, two traits that drove every vampire mad. There was something in the vampire’s brain that told each and every one of them to always try to be at their best and never let themselves be weak, and not drinking blood left them stumbling in exhaustion like newborn colts.

And so, as usual, Rick had gone to the bar, intent on staying there until another junky rolled within his sights. He was expecting an alcoholic or a druggie, but he wasn’t prepared to meet _this._

As tall as Rick, but almost twice his size in the shoulders, with a raspy voice that sounded so rough Rick might have as well been listening to someone walk on broken glass every time the guy laughed over the pool table. He felt prickling on his neck when that sweet, dark sound managed to travel over the crowd and into his ears, seeping down Rick’s spine like molten lava. Rick sipped his whiskey and thought about approaching the guy. He was big, muscled and had a mean stare that pulled Rick to him like nothing ever had.

He was also in a group of rather violent-looking rednecks that spoke trouble even for a vampire.

Rick finished his whiskey and got up, deciding on using a little hypnosis to get the guy away from the group. He could lead him out of the bar and into the back alley, and then lift the fog of illusion to actually talk to the guy. Rick still wasn’t sure how he was able to plant a thought in people’s brains, but it usually stuck in there until he made a conscious effort to chase it away. It was, after all, one of the vampire traits which enabled them to suck blood out of their unsuspecting victims and leave them in the dark as to what had happened.

Rick made his way to the bar and stood there for a long moment, trying to imprint the ‘out for a smoke’ thought into the guy’s mind. It didn’t seem to work, the man continued to play the pool and drink his beer and Rick scoffed. _Maybe he needed to get closer?_ He stepped forward tentatively, eyes focused on the back of the guy’s head, gaze slipping over the overgrown, messy hair. Rick wanted to run his hands through it, he wanted to _push his nose into it and inhale, wrap both arms around this guy’s waist and pull him clo-_

“The hell d’ya want?”

Rick blinked rapidly, gaze focusing on the guy he had tried to hypnotize. He had turned around and was now squinting at Rick with his stormy eyes and, _dear lord,_ Rick could feel a shiver rake his whole frame. The vampire licked his lips and opened his mouth, trying to come up with a good excuse for standing in front of this masterpiece of human evolution and drooling all over his own cowboy boots. But, Rick’s brain was currently very much offline and his dick was doing the thinking, and so, when he finally made his body produce any kind of sound, it came out breathy and whiny, and Rick almost winced hearing it. He tried to cover it all up by muttering something that hopefully sounded more eloquent than ‘please, fuck me’. He must have failed in that, too, for the next thing he knew, the guy’s fist was connecting with his face and Rick stumbled back, hand instinctively shooting to his throbbing nose.

Looking up with teary eyes - just a normal reaction for being punched in the face, _thank you very much_ \- Rick noticed that the bar had gone quiet. He threw a glance around and sure enough, all the patrons were looking at him, most with their mouths wide open. It must have been a shock for them to see their usually collected and lurking cop being hit square in the teeth. Rick looked back up at the guy still standing tall in front of him, and almost choked on his own tongue when he spotted a small flicker of guilt crossing his angular face.

Deciding not to make a mess of it, Rick straightened and quietly walked out of the bar. The door was barely closed behind him, before Rick stopped to take stock of himself. There was blood seeping from his - thankfully not broken - nose, and he fished for a tissue in the back pocket of his pants. He pressed it to his face gingerly and tried to stop the flow.

_Fuck, but did the guy have a strong fist…_

Still, Rick was pretty sure that with all those muscles bulging in his arms, he could have punched his way right through Rick’s skull, vampire or not. Yet, the man hadn’t done that. That had been a _warning_ hit, something designed to scare away, not to damage… even if Rick could still feel it all the way in the roots of his fangs, retracted as they were.

Running his tongue slowly over his gums, Rick was happy to notice that none of his teeth were missing and that his canines worked as usual. It would be a bitch to feed on this very night, but he could do it. He would have to if he wanted to be strong enough to get the redneck who had stolen his heart.

Rick had already started to make a plan on wooing the handsome stranger... maybe with some more traditional ways, though.

 

-&-

 

On the next afternoon, Rick woke up with a plan already formed in his mind. He needed to seduce the guy and he had to act like a gentleman to do it. That’s how vampires had been doing it for centuries, that’s how he had managed to get Lori, _that’s how he would get that man, too._ He had to start with a coffee - maybe ask the guy out?

Rick sighed, running his fingers through his hair. _Right. He didn’t even know where the man lived._ So much for great plans.

He got out of bed, dragged himself to the bathroom and took a long shower, hoping some of the warmth would seep into his body from the hot water sloshing down his back. All vampires ran a bit lower on temperature, and while usually it wasn’t a big deal, some of them really hated it. Rick was one of them, always seeking warm spots to sit in, and curling under the thickest comforters he could find. _At least the humanity had central heating now. And hot showers._

Rick smiled fondly, remembering how he had spent countless winter days buried under thick furs sometime back in the 18th century. He got out of the shower and toweled himself off, slipping into his favorite worn-out pair of jeans and an old, fluffy jumper. The summer was ending and with it, the chill was creeping back into the nighttime - Rick would have to invest some money to have his house repaired. It was getting drafty as fuck, and the vampires no longer had to live in caves, after all.

He checked his nose in the mirror - completely healed by now - and went to the living room. He made a quick detour to the kitchen, snatching a piece of raw steak from the fridge, before he sat down on the couch and wolfed it down. Meat was still meat, and blood was still blood, even if it was cold and dead. Vampires weren’t picky - it had been something that had caused their near extinction back in the Middle Ages. Of course, human blood was a lot better. If dead beef was lighter fluid, then warm, sweet, human blood was like jet fuel. But Rick couldn’t really stock dead people in his fridge. _Definitely_ _not_ , if he wanted to keep his job as the sheriff's deputy.

Thinking about work made him look at the clock, and he groaned. He had to get his ass moving if he wanted to step into the coffee shop he frequented on his way to the station.

 

-&-

 

Rick couldn’t believe his eyes.

The redneck from the bar, the very personification of his dreams, was walking in front of him. Rick almost pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t still asleep.

He had spotted him on the car park near the coffee shop, and now here they were, walking on the sidewalk in the slowly setting sun. Rick adjusted his sunglasses and sped up his steps, intent on not losing the guy, even for the cost of his coffee.

And then something truly wonderful happened, and Rick thought about pinching himself for the second time this afternoon. The guy took a sharp turn to the left and walked to the entrance of the same coffee shop Rick loved, and _wasn’t that a surprise?_

Deciding he had to act, Rick stepped around the redneck and almost ran to the door. He grabbed the handle, his best smile plastered on his face, as he attempted to open it for the man. He really hoped for a good second impression and tried to ignore his thumping heart when the man got closer. Vampires shouldn’t have thumping hearts, it really fucked with their mojo.

Rick cocked an eyebrow at him and flashed his pearly set of teeth in the man’s direction… and then he was holding his nose again when the door smashed right into his face. Groaning, he let go of the handle, taking off his sunglasses and rubbing the sore spot just under them.   
“Shit, ya alright?” A gruffy voice asked and Rick froze, glancing up, eyes squinting in the setting sun that was still _too fucking bright_.

There he was... _Rough_ _and_ _beautiful_ , staring at Rick with concerned, dark blue eyes. Rick could have sworn the wetness in his own eyes had been caused by the crash. And then, those pretty eyes narrowed and the guy looked him up and down, and _oh shit…_  
“I know ya.” The redneck muttered, more to himself than to Rick it seemed, and the vampire didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It was the moment the guy would remember his idiotic attempt at hypnotising him out of that bar the day before. He would probably deck him another one. Rick put his sunglasses back on, hoping the man would at least spare his face this time, and nodded.   
“Yeah, we’ve met yesterday,” he admitted bravely. The squinting got harder after that, but there was something else in that handsome face, something that looked suspiciously like the guy was trying not to smirk.

“One time wasn’t ‘nuff for ya?” He asked, nodding at Rick’s nose and the vampire shrugged.   
“Sorry for yesterday. I was just…” Rick trailed off, not really knowing how to finish this sentence. Was just _what?_ _Trying to get into your pants? Trying to lure you out so I could kiss the living hell out of you?_ Rick shook his head to clear it.   
“Yeah,” the man responded as if he had heard Rick’s thoughts and nodded to himself.   
“Name’s Rick, by the way,” Rick added, hoping to at least get the guy’s name, so he could have something to moan out with his own hand wrapped around his cock later.   
“Daryl.” The man mumbled and walked inside, leaving Rick standing by the door with a dazed expression on his face.

Daryl

_Da-ryl._

Rick tried it out in his head, decided he liked it and followed him inside. He spotted him standing next to the counter. The barista was nowhere in sight, so Rick straightened up bravely and walked over there, wedging himself between the barstools and leaning against the countertop.   
“So, Daryl,” he tried for casual, earning a scowl.   
“Man, whadda ya want now?” Daryl asked suspiciously, eyeing him. The shiver that ran up Rick’s spine almost made him twitch.   
“I thought I’ll buy you a coffee, you know… to say _sorry_ for yesterday,” Rick proposed, giving Daryl a toothy grin. The man blinked at him, then blinked again.

“Ya apologized already.” Daryl deadpanned and looked around, eyes scanning the shop. Rick cursed silently, raking his brain for something he could use, but he came up with nothing. In all four centuries of his life he had never had so much troubles picking anyone up… alright, _granted_ , he usually hypnotized them to suck their blood, _not to date them,_ but still…   
“Come on, just let me buy you the coffee.” Rick pouted, trying for cute.   
“Don’t even _like_ coffee,” Daryl gruffed.   
“Then why the hell are you in a _coffee shop?_ ” Rick asked in disbelief. It just didn’t add up in his head. Daryl smirked and pointed at his own chest.   
“Mechanic. Hey Tara!” And with that, he turned to the counter again, fist-bumping the young barista that appeared out of nowhere.

Rick, knowing well when he was defeated, sighed and dragged himself out of there. He had work to get to and he had a feeling the shift would be exhausting without his coffee.

 

-&-

 

“Ya know this guy?” Daryl asked, watching Rick disappear behind the corner of the shop. Tara shrugged.   
“He’s a cop, comes here often. He never looked this… _deflated_ , though,” she explained. Daryl hummed, walking behind the counter and turning to the coffee machine.

“Do _you_ know him?” Tara asked and Daryl shrugged.   
“Punched ‘im yesterday… smashed the door into his face today,” he answered, fiddling with the buttons and listening to the machine squeak and cough. “The hell did ya do to it?”   
“It was that new guy, Dwight. Well… _ex-new_ guy...” Tara grinned and Daryl rolled his eyes.   
“Ya keep firin’ them all, ya ain’t gonna have any crew to work ‘ere.” He unplugged the machine and started to pick it apart. Tara watched from behind him.

“He’s a good guy, you know?” She stated suddenly and Daryl huffed.   
“And why are ya tellin’ me that?”   
“You were smiling.” Tara grinned and ducked when Daryl threw his red rag at her.   
“Get me some tea!” He watched her disappear at the back of the shop. Turning back to his work, Daryl tried not to think about the ridiculous man that had stumbled into his life. _Twice._

He failed.

 

-&-

 

Rick hadn’t been wrong about his shift being exhausting, mostly because it had been boring as fuck. But that had given Rick an opportunity to check for Daryl in the police records. It had taken him a while - he had actually been surprised just how many _Daryls_ had been there in the computer. But he had finally found him. _Daryl Dixon_ , arrested a few times for trespassing and hunting without a license.

A short google search had also brought up an address of a certain mechanic shop.

Rick was on his way there, as soon as he was finished sleeping off his night shift. He had two whole days off and he intended to use them. He had dressed up in his best tux - he had worn it to the coronation of Queen Victoria, so he had figured it was good enough. He had a guitar on the backseat of his Tucson and a top hat waiting on the passenger seat.

Rick pulled up on the curb outside Daryl’s garage and took a deep breath to calm himself. He hummed for a moment trying to remember the melody he was supposed to play in a moment… He hadn’t sang or played for over three decades, not on the scale of any actual performance, but it was supposed to be like riding a bike…

 

-&-

 

“FUCK!” Daryl dropped the wrench he was working with right on his face. He groaned, sliding from under the car, and looked around, frowning, one hand holding his pulsing nose.

_It sounded like a cat being skinned alive._

And _yes,_ when one grew up with a brother like Merle, one knew _exactly_ how _that_ sounded _._

 _“The hell?”_ Daryl squinted at the garage door, slightly fearing what he would find on the other side of it. He picked up the wrench again, certain now that someone was being murdered out there, and stormed to the door. He opened it with one forceful pull, the metal sheet of it sliding smoothly up, and Daryl froze.

There, in the middle of the parking spot, right in front of his shop, was no one else, but Rick - _the loon_ \- brandishing a guitar and wailing something.

Rick gave him a toothy grin and started to _sing_ again, and Daryl almost chucked the wrench at his head. The sound was awful, and the playing wasn’t any better, now that Daryl could actually hear it. And Rick was just standing there without a care in the world, belting out lyrics like there was no tomorrow, looking ridiculous as fuck in an old-fashioned tuxedo and a top hat…

 _Alright_ , Daryl had to admit that the hat made his curls look extra-curly wherever they managed to peek out from under the rim. And that the tux accentuated the man’s narrow hips in a very tasty way…

Daryl shook his head and squinted at him. Rick’s song was coming to its natural end, and Daryl decided to step in before he started another round. He suspected that the neighbors wouldn’t appreciate the sounds of murder outside their windows and would tell him to get the hell out of there. And so, when Rick paused to take a deep breath, Daryl opened his mouth.

“The hospital is that way,” Daryl said, pointing in the direction of the town center.

Rick froze, then frowned, then started to say something, but Daryl only smirked and walked back into the garage, shutting the door behind him.

 

-&-

 

Rick felt almost as if Daryl had jabbed him another one. He stood there, staring stupidly at the garage door behind which Daryl had disappeared, re-evaluating the last five minutes of his life. He had a nagging feeling Daryl didn’t appreciate his singing talent, after all. Maybe he should try a more _classic_ approach?

Formulating a good plan took Rick another two days. He didn't have a lot to go on, but he knew a few facts. One of them being that Daryl had been arrested in the past… for hunting without a license.

Nothing spoke _love_ more than a fancy dinner, right? And when one tried to woo a _hunter,_ one had to be creative.

This is how Rick found himself in the middle of the forest, right after midnight, sitting in a tree and waiting for the game to come. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that he couldn’t track for shit. It was only logical to, instead of trying to go after the animals, wait for the animals to come to him. This is exactly why he had an unscrewed peanut butter jar glued to the tree about four feet from the ground. _This is exactly why he was sitting on the blasted tree, ready to pounce on anything that as much as sniffed in the direction of the jar._

Clearly, the deer were not that hungry, or maybe Rick’s internet research had been off, because for the past four hours there had been _zero_ antlers in the sight. Huffing, squinting at the forest around him, Rick buried his nose in the collar of his suede jacket, tucking it a bit tighter around his body. _Why the hell were the nights so fucking cold in the middle of summer?_ He was slowly freezing his ass off, shifting his legs awkwardly on the branch, biting his lip in an attempt at not just giving up. He was hungry - he could swear he felt his eyes becoming blood-red, and his fangs extending just a little.

He started to seriously consider just climbing down and going home, when something rustled through the undergrowth.

Rick jumped down.

 

-&-

 

Daryl couldn’t believe it. It was the middle of the night, he had been sleeping peacefully, and then someone had pounded on his door so hard he could still feel his brain rattling from the noise. Cursing like a sailor, grabbing his crossbow just in case, Daryl dragged himself to answer it, trying to get _murder_ out of his mind.

It was pretty hard.

And then, all his anger evaporated and an incredulous feeling washed over him, because what he saw after opening the door wasn’t at all what he had expected.

Rick was standing in front of him. Rick, looking half-wild and completely miserable, with an excited glint still shining in his eyes. His hands were red, his mouth was red… even his fucking _eyes_ were red, and Daryl squinted at him suspiciously, before glancing around and spotting a half-eaten doe. The meat was shredded to pieces in a few places, the skin ruined completely.   
“The hell happened to ‘er?” Daryl asked, pointing at the carcass bleeding out in front of his house. Rick grinned.   
“I brought you a gift,” he said, straightening out proudly. Daryl scoffed.   
“She fell under a mower or somethin’?”   
“She?” Rick frowned, looking at the dead animal.   
“Yeah, _she’s_ a beautiful _doe…”_ Daryl said, almost rolling his eyes at the way Rick puffed out his chest. “Hell, she _was,_ until something shredded ‘er to pieces,” Daryl went on, eyeing Rick. The man shrugged.   
“I was hungry,” he mumbled out quietly, looking down at his feet.

“Well… next time bring the deer to me, I’ll gut it properly.” Daryl huffed, then turned around and walked to the house. “And get that shit outta my lawn!” He gruffed out, stepping inside shutting the door behind him.

Rick stood there, blinking stupidly in the night. _Next time bring the deer to me…_

_Next time._

With a smile, Rick grabbed one leg of the... _doe,_ and went back to the forest. He had his share of meat and blood for today, so maybe some wolves would be happy to get his dinner.

 

-&-

 

It took almost a whole week before Rick could get a day off. He decided against another hunting trip - he had a feeling it wouldn’t go as he wanted it to. Choosing to go with his gut feeling, not really keen on doing anymore of that hit-and-miss that he had been doing so far, Rick found himself in front of Daryl’s house. He was sitting in his Tucson, looking wearily at the little cabin. It was the middle of the day - the sun was glaring with vengeance - and Rick cringed even thinking about what he wanted to do.

It wasn’t that the sun would kill vampires, per se. It was just too fucking bright, making them almost blind if they tried to walk around without their sunglasses, and prolonged exposure made their skin hurt something awful. They wouldn’t catch fire wandering around on a sunny day, but they would sorely regret any sun-filled walk in the park for hours afterwards. No wonder that through the ages, vampires started to avoid something that rendered them into a blind, whimpering mess.

For vampires, sun was simply _scary as fuck._

Sighing, putting on his shades, Rick punched the horn, twice, waiting for the sound to grab Daryl’s attention. It worked and, after a minute or so, a very squinting, very confused man walked out of the tiny house, shielding his eyes from the blazing light and staring right at Rick’s car.

Taking one last calming breath, Rick got out, turning sharply and stepping around the car.

 

-&-

 

Daryl couldn’t really believe what he was seeing. He had read up on who Rick could be - the internet was truly a beautiful thing. What had prompted him to do his little research had been Rick’s blood-red eyes and that small little _“hungry”_ , mumbled over the carcass. After sifting through a dozen or so pages about idiotic, unreal shit, Daryl had finally stumbled upon one page that described vampires in a way which fit Rick perfectly.

Frowning, hoping he wouldn’t have to go and get his fire extinguisher out, Daryl watched Rick walk forward, determination clear in his every step. He had a white t-shirt on, sunglasses pushed high on his nose, and Daryl wondered briefly how was it even possible that his guy looked as sexy as he did right now, cringing and snarling at the sun beating down on him.

Rick walked as far as half of Daryl’s driveway, before he crumbled down, falling to his knees and wrapping his hands around his middle. He curled up and gave a small whine, and Daryl found himself striding to him before he even consciously decided to do so.

 

-&-

 

Rick’s skin was burning, his whole body seemingly set on fire - stinging and _too fucking hot._ He had forgotten what a bad idea it was to walk around in direct sunlight at noon. Sure, when the sun was setting, he could walk around all he wanted, but now? _Stupid._

He only hoped that Daryl would at least see his idiotic, heroic sacrifice for what it was - an attempt at showing him that Rick was serious about winning his heart.

“That was stupid,” a voice murmured somewhere to his left, and Rick winced, curling up tighter, trying to shield his bare arms and angling his neck away from the burning sunlight.   
“Had to try,” he gasped out, trying not to whimper like a newbie. It wasn’t the first time he had been exposed to the sun at this hour… He’d done it before, he could do it again. And if the last three times had been people’s attempts at killing a _dangerous monster,_ well, that was way in the past.

“Come on,” Daryl prompted, and before Rick could as much as move a muscle, he was being tugged up. He gave a startled groan when Daryl wrapped one of his arms around Rick’s back and placed the second just under Rick’s knees, sweeping him up. Next thing he knew, he was carried inside a shadowy room and placed carefully on something soft and furry. His sunglasses were taken off and he blinked blearily, looking around and spotting Daryl sitting next to him. Rick frowned, then glanced down.

He was lying on a bed, a thick sheepskin spread out under him, fluffy where Rick dragged his fingers through it. He looked back at Daryl, noticing him staring at his face with a frown.   
“That normal, or ya gonna bite me now?” Daryl asked, waving a hand at his face. Rick could feel that his fangs were extended and he could bet his eyes were red, too. He shook his head.   
“My body’s trying to heal the sunburn,” he explained, raising an eyebrow when Daryl nodded.   
“Ya need blood for that or somethin’?” He asked, eyeing Rick up and down.   
“Do you have some raw meat?”   
“Rabbit alright?”   
“Yeah…” Rick nodded, gaze following Daryl as the man stood up and walked to the kitchen.

He returned a few moments later, carrying a skinned rabbit, fresh enough that its enticing smell made Rick’s mouth water. He reached for it when Daryl was within an arm’s distance, biting into the meat as soon as he could, closing his eyes in delight. The skin on his forearms was still burning and Rick wanted it to start healing already. He hoped the blood from the meat would be enough to help, otherwise his visit at Daryl’s place would be awfully short.

That thought made him open his eyes again and look at Daryl, who was back to sitting on the edge of the bed, clever eyes focused on Rick. There was no disgust or fear in them, though, and Rick frowned, finally pulling the meat away from his lips, only enough to speak.   
“You don’t seem very surprised,” he commented. Daryl shrugged.   
“Read up on you… well, on _vampires,”_ he gruffed out. Rick’s eyes widened - he dreaded to think what kind of shit was flying on the internet.   
“What… uh. What did you read?” Rick asked, tentatively licking around his fangs.   
“Ya drink blood to stay alive?” Daryl said it like a question, and Rick shook his head,   
“No.” He frowned, then wiped his bloodied lips with the back of his hand. “To heal. We drink it to heal… and to get some energy.”   
“Mhm…”   
“What else?” He prodded, noticing that Daryl’s expression became very thoughtful.

“Ya burn in the sun?” He asked, curiously.   
“Not… exactly.” Rick winced, glancing at his forearms. The sunburn was still there, painting them angry red. Rick could feel it all the way up his shoulders and on his neck, still too hot and tingling painfully. He shook his head. “It’s not like I’m gonna burst into flames or anything… it’s just a sunburn. Hurts like a bitch, but you don’t need to douse me with water.”   
“Huh,” Daryl muttered, still watching him avidly. “Can it hurt your eyes?” He inquired, nodding at Rick’s face.   
“Makes me blind, but that passes after I eat something,” Rick mumbled out, raising the rabbit he was still holding. He brought it to his mouth and took another bite. The meat was tender, soft even, and he wondered absentmindedly just how young that rabbit was.

“Why d’ya do it?” Daryl asked finally, pausing Rick’s chewing.   
“Do what?”   
“Come here in the middle of the day.” Daryl gruffed out, and Rick swallowed.   
“I wanted to… I wanted to ask you out on a date,” he said carefully, before he stuffed his mouth with the rabbit again.   
“Could have just asked, ‘stead of nearly killin’ yerself just to hear me say yes,” Daryl commented, matter-of-factly.   
“I told you, it’s not gonna kill… _what?”_

Rick blinked at him stupidly, the rabbit forgotten in his hands. _Did Daryl actually -_

“I’d say yes,” the man shrugged, looking down at the meat. Rick stuck to blinking.   
“You mean… I can take you out for a dinner or something?”   
“Can ya even _eat_ our food?” Daryl asked, voice sceptical. Rick shrugged.   
“It’s not gonna kill me. And I like coffee.”   
“Mhm… eat yer rabbit first, we’ll see ‘bout that coffee later.” Daryl nodded, then got up. He walked back to the kitchen, leaving Rick chewing thoughtfully on the rabbit’s leg.

 

-&-

 

They didn’t make it to the coffee time. Their afternoon ended with Rick on his back, moaning out his pleasure when Daryl did his best to fuck him through the couch. It had started slow and unhurried, but quickly became wild, full of grabbing fingers and quivering lips. It turned out that even Rick’s eyes shining red halfway through and his fangs coming out, weren’t enough to deter Daryl, and soon, they were both panting in the afterglow, moaning quietly with every aftershock that overtook them.

“Fucking _hell,”_ Rick mumbled, sighing. They were still entwined together, hands no longer desperate, but gripping with strength all the same.   
“Mhmmm…” Daryl hummed, pulling away, and Rick winced when he felt Daryl’s dick slip out of him with a wet sound.   
“Ya okay?” Daryl eyed him, but Rick nodded quickly.   
“Yeah, it just… feels _weird.”_ He chuckled. “So many years and it still feels weird…”   
“Man, _you’re_ weird…” Daryl gruffed out a laugh, and Rick raised his eyebrows at him. “Thought ya were a creep at first...” Daryl admitted quietly, but there was no malice in his voice. Rick frowned, looking at him.   
“And now?”

Daryl stared at him for a longer moment before he replied.   
“Now I think yer cute.”   
“I’m _not_ cute,” Rick mumbled out with an undignified scoff. Daryl smirked hearing that.   
“Yeah, ya are.” He grinned, then moved away, turning around and digging for something behind the couch. A moment later, he pulled out a patchwork quilt. It was made of small pieces of green fabric in different shades, and it reminded Rick of forest.

 _It was also big enough to cover the both of them,_ as Rick learned just a few seconds later, when Daryl rearranged him on the couch and climbed right next to him, lying them both down and pressing them tightly together.   
“Ya gonna bite me or somethin’?” Daryl asked, when they were face to face, arms wrapped around each other’s bodies and legs tangling under the quilt.   
“What?” Rick asked, too distracted by Daryl’s eyes to pay attention to what he was saying. Up close they were like two angry oceans, shimmering blue, with a bit of a stormy grey mixed in at the edges…   
“Like I said… _cute,”_ Daryl said with a smirk, diving in for a languid kiss.

“Was askin’,” he murmured, dragging his tongue over Rick’s fangs that were still out, “if yer gonna bite me?” He finished with a long lick just over the tip of one of Rick’s sharp teeth, feelin git nick his tongue just a bit.  
“Oh…” Rick gasped, his brain getting fuzzy. “No… I mean… maybe sometime… If you want me to. But not now, no… I just… They just stay out for a bit after… you know…” he blabbered, torn between focusing on forming coherent sentences and fusing their mouths together.   
_“Cute,”_ Daryl growled, deepening the kiss.

Well… If being called _cute_ gave him an armful of a very happy and enamored Daryl, Rick could certainly swallow his four hundred centuries of pride… As long as Daryl would keep on kissing him like that.

Maybe with time, he would change Daryl into a vampire, too? Rick hadn’t done that in over two centuries, but he had a feeling it would be worth it.


End file.
